


Where Shallow Becomes Deep

by lilkyonkyon



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Drama, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-07
Updated: 2013-04-07
Packaged: 2017-12-07 17:25:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/751105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilkyonkyon/pseuds/lilkyonkyon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin must really fancy lakes, he blindly rationalized. Arthur trails Merlin to the banks of Avalon. After episode 2x9. Oneshot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where Shallow Becomes Deep

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic on this site ever!! Huzzah! I have forty-odd on ff.net, but they're super-strict, aren't they? So let's see how this goes.
> 
> This is also my first Merlin fic, so please review and be terribly honest with me. I don't mind.

The day after the bastet disappeared, breakfast was a feast of fresh fruit, carved ham, and ale. His bed was made without complaint. Arthur's boots were polished, his mail buffed until it shone. The stables were already mucked before he had even had the opportunity to ask about them. "What's gotten into you, Merlin?" he wondered aloud. The boy only shrugged in reply.

Even though Arthur told himself this competence couldn't last, the next morning was very much the same. So was the following one. It was an entire week before the prince truly started to worry. After all, he had never known Merlin to be so miserable.

"Care to practice swordplay today?"

"Whatever you wish," replied his man-servant, his face strangely blank.

"What I  _wish_ ," he emphasized, "is to beat some sense into you. You've been entirely too bland of late."

"Judging by the amount of food you've put down, I suppose you can't say the same about your meals."

Arthur was aghast. "Are you implying what I think you are?" But, if he had hoped for more banter, he was disappointed. Merlin closed up right before his eyes.

"No, my lord."

And so this strange depression continued. Arthur couldn't stand it. He tried jokes, heart-to-hearts, and even threats, but nothing came of them. He began to dismiss Merlin earlier and earlier from service, unable to stomach such a stoic companion. Today's excuse was a private council meeting. Merlin didn't even question him; he bowed and strode out the door. Strange.

Arthur was contemplating this, staring listlessly out of the window, when he saw something curious. Merlin, with a pack of belongings, was marching off down the cobblestone road.  _What the hell? Is he seriously running away?_ "Oh no you don't," he muttered. Panicked, he did the first thing that came to mind: he grabbed his sword and took off to follow his servant. He drew some stares from some of the guards, and he nearly bowled Guinevere over when he rounded a corner, but it didn't slow his pace.

He met Gaius on his flight down the stairs. The elderly man managed to reach out and stop Arthur's progress. "Merlin told me that if I saw you, I should tell you that he was going to the tavern."

"Yes, thank you. I really must go now!" He side-stepped the man and trotted down the rest of the stairs.

"But Merlin said you had a council meeting."

"Later, Gaius! Later!" Arthur called, already far past the physician.  _Tavern my boot. No one packs a bag to go to a tavern._

His suspicions were confirmed when he arrived at the stables and saw Merlin's horse was missing. Without wasting time, he saddled his own mount and clattered off down the street. His servant had maybe a fifteen minute head-start. As soon as he hit the edge of the city limits, Arthur spurred his horse into a full gallop. He would have to examine the tree line to see which direction the boy had gone when he had hit the woods.

Mercifully, Merlin was no genius. His track was childishly easy to follow; freshly broken branches littered an entrance to the east. Arthur traced him easily from horseback, trotting steadily through the trees.  _He is no more than twenty minutes ahead by now. I'll confront him and_ make _him come back!_ It was only five minutes later, however, he heard another horse nicker nearby; he pulled his own to a halt. Arthur stood in his saddle to look around. There! He dismounted and led his horse down the slope. Near a tangle of branches, Merlin's horse was tied off. There was no sign of Merlin himself. Arthur tied his steed to the neighbouring tree and took a cursory glance of his surroundings. It was quite obvious that his servant had passed through here. In fact, there was a very obvious hole in the foliage towards the Lake of Avalon.

_Who runs away to a lake?_  Arthur wondered.  _Its waters are deep—maybe Merlin is trying to…._  But he refused to consider that option at all. Instead, he gripped the hilt of his sword and crept towards the clearing.

He could hear his voice.

"I wanted to come sooner," he was murmuring. "Arthur had me working a lot, though."

_Like hell!_  the prince thought vehemently. He arrived closer to the edge of the trees and managed to catch a glimpse of Merlin. The boy was lounging next to the lake's shore, legs strewn in front of him carelessly. The bag Arthur had seen him with was apparently full of food—loaves of bread and a wedge of hard cheese stuck out, and there was an apple core tossed off to the side.

Merlin was holding out a small bud, pinched in his fingertips. "I picked this for you," he said. "It's like a strawberry, remember?" At this moment, the boy hesitated. The flower twirled in his fingers. "You know," he tried again, "not a day goes by that I do not think of you."

Arthur's eyebrows flew up in shock.  _Merlin must really fancy lakes_ , he blindly rationalized.  _I wonder if I should request that Gaius examine him. Is that even healthy?_

His servant was saying more: "…but I wasn't strong enough to help you."

Whatever it was that Merlin meant, Arthur couldn't begin to guess.

He watched the black-haired boy's shoulders droop under an impossible, invisible weight. Birds called overhead, but the lake remained eerily calm. Not a ripple cracked its mirrored surface. The prince felt himself holding his breath.

Merlin exhaled noisily, falling back to examine the sky. "Now what should I do? No one listens to me, least of all  _him_. How can I help if he won't take my advice?" Arthur had the strangest feeling he was the bad guy in this sentence.  _That idiot is complaining about me to a body of water?_

"God, this is so stupid. I know you can't help me now." A silly, wistful smile appeared on his face. "I just wish… I wish that—"

Arthur, in his earnest to hear every last word, took a cautious step forward. Unfortunately, he did not notice the dry twig at hip level. He brushed harshly against it. The resounding snap was as loud as a bone cracking in two.  _Damn!_ Merlin flew to his feet, abandoning his unspoken wish. "W-who's there? Show yourself!"

With a sigh, Arthur stepped into the clearing. "Calm down. It's only me."

"You?" The colour rose in his cheeks. "I thought you had a council meeting!"

"I lied," he admitted blandly. "But, then again, so did you."

Merlin looked thunderstruck, but only for a moment. Soon, his face returned to that horrible mask, devoid of any emotion. "Why did you follow me?"

Here was the bit where it would get awkward. "Merlin, I trust I can speak freely to you." He took a steadying breath and plunged forward. "You've not been yourself. You hardly speak in the mornings. You never make half-witted remarks, or attempt to make me look a fool. I don't know what to do. When I caught you sneaking off this morning, I actually thought you were running away. That you were so miserable at Camelot, you were going home. So I followed you. But you only came here, and you were talking to the lake and—are you  _crying_?"

"No," Merlin retorted, wiping at his eyes. "I'm just allergic to oak."

"Oh. Right," Arthur agreed. There were no oak trees nearby, but he didn't mention that bit. "Well? Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"I was  _not_  running away."

"Yes, I've gathered that. What were you doing, then?"

The boy deflated. Sighing, he practically begged, "Can I ever just have some time to myself? Please?"

"Not until you tell me what's been bothering you."

It was as if Arthur had torn him in half. Merlin looked desperately to the lake, then back to the prince with such pathetic misery that Arthur almost took his command back. Before he got the words out, however, Merlin said to the forest floor, "The future." Barely above a whisper. "I was worried about the future."

To put it plainly, Arthur was floored. " _That's_  what you think about in your free-time?"  _I thought he just went to the tavern. Although, if this is what he thinks about, I can't blame him for taking a few cups now and then._  Not quite knowing what to do, he took a few tentative steps forward. "Merlin, no one can see the future."

Apparently it sounded like a joke because the boy began chuckling. "No, sorry," he amended. "You're right, of course." He wiped the smile from his face. "I can't see the future. I just… I know what I  _want_  it to be. But I don't know how I can help you. I don't know if I'm strong enough to—to fight when I need to. To kill."

"You feel useless," Arthur abruptly announced. It felt like an earth-shattering discovery to him.

His servant grimaced. "Not exactly—"

"Merlin, it's no use worrying about something that's destined to be." The boy fell silent. "Neither of us can change it.  _No one_  can change it. Whatever happens is meant to happen. You cannot change what is written." He closed the remaining space between them so that he could clap a hand on his shoulder. "Believe me."

"I do," he said. A pause. Then, "Does that mean you'll leave me alone now?"

Arthur cleared his throat. "Actually, could I stay with you? I'm a bit hungry, and chasing you around is harder than it would seem." He eyed the bag of food resting near the edge of the lake.

Merlin heaved a dramatic sigh. "As long as I don't have to serve you," he stipulated.

"What? I thought you enjoyed serving me."

"Well, thinking was never one of your strong points, my lord."

Arthur gave him a shove, and with that, everything shifted back to its proper place. They sat near the edge of Lake Avalon and shared the picnic meal, only speaking when they felt compelled to do so. The sunlight was clear and warm on Arthur's face, the lake a sparkling blue.

"It seems to be a bit further away than necessary, don't you think? There are plenty of lakes closer to the castle."

"But I prefer this one," Merlin shrugged. He had resumed the flower-twirling after they had finished lunch. "It's peaceful." At once, he tossed the buds into the shallows of the lake.

_I guess this_ is _nicer than the others_ , Arthur mused, watching the ripples play over the clear surface.  _I believe I could stay here all my life._

Then it happened.

He stiffened in his seat. Right there—for the briefest of moments—he had seen a face in the water. A girl. A beautiful girl. "What was that? I mean,  _who_ —" At a loss, he whirled to face his servant for an explanation.

Merlin smiled, the water's reflection in his eyes. "Lovely, isn't it?"

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me what you think! I'd love to hear from you!


End file.
